Warriors: Deleted Scenes
by Crowfeather's Dream
Summary: This is just a bunch of drabbles and short chapters that I made up that fit in with the Warriors series. If you want to see a deleted scene, request one in a review
1. Darkstripe's Intentions

This is just a bunch of scenes that never made it to the book that I made up.

Warriors is copyright Erin Hunter, and always will be.

* * *

Firestar emerged from his den, his green eyes narrowing against the sunlight. Sorrelkit was still recovering from eating the deathberrries, and Greystripe was still crouched in front of Cinderpelt's den. 

The young leader felt his neck fur rise as Darkstripe crept slowly towards the medicine cat's den. He was intercepted by Greystripe, who glared boldly at the dark warrior. Darkstripe muttered something Firestar did not hear. Greystripe's only response was baring his teeth, a dangerous growl rising from the back of his throat. With an angry jerk of his head, Darkstripe backed away before returning to the warrior's den.

Firestar padded over to Greystripe, his head cocked to one side curiously. "What was that all about?" he breathed in his friend's ear.

Greystripe snorted. "Darkstripe claimed that his only intentions were to pay respects to Willowpelt," he growled. "If you ask my opinion, I think he was trying to sneak in and finish what he started with Sorrelkit."

Firestar shook his head. "Until Sorrelkit wakes up, we don't have enough evidence to bring Darkstripe to justice." He muttered. But as he stared into the warrior's den, he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him, narrowed with hatred and malice, and couldn't help but believe what his old friend said was true.

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R&R! If you have any particular scenes you want to see written, then please submit a review, and I will do my best. Don't expect a novel, though. -grin- 


	2. Road to RiverClan

Nameless Nightmare_: Ahhh! His eyes ARE green... -fixes- thanks!  
_Cinderfoot_: Wish granted! -stares at scene below-  
_Tawnyspots_: I'll work on the for you, k?_

_Thank you for reviewing! -jumps up and down-_

_This is the deleted scene where Graystripe and Mistyfoot are traveling to the RiverClan camp in Forest of Secrets_

* * *

_"I'll see you at the next Gathering."_

"_It won't be the same."_

"_No, it won't be the same."_

Graystripe glanced over his shoulder one last time. He could just see Fireheart's fiery red figure from across the river, looking small and lonely. So many times he had seen at least one cat with his friend, and to see him alone, watching his oldest friend leave him, was almost more than he could bear.

"Don't look back," Mistyfoot said softly through the kit she was carrying. Her eyes met Graystripe's, and he saw sympathy and understanding there. He remembered that she had lost Oakheart, her father, and knew how it felt to lose a best friend.

"I'll miss him," the young gray tom murmured. He couldn't help but look back again, but reeds had obscured his view of his old friend.

"I would have, too," the RiverClan warrior confessed. "He was a good cat, and was always kind to me. He showed respect to Graypool, too, though she was not an elder from his Clan. I think he would have been a good friend to many cats in RiverClan."

"He is a friend of many cats in ThunderClan," Graystripe growled. Mistyfoot fell silent.

Graystripe's kit squirmed, as if sharing his discomfort and anxiety. "Did you tell Crookedstar about me?" he asked quietly, the fur along his spine tingling.

"Yes, and he told Leopardfur, who probably told the rest of the Clan."

"What does Leopardfur think of all this?" Graystripe hissed quietly. He still remembered the hostility in her eyes when Whiteclaw had fallen into the gorge. It was likely that she would not give him a warm welcome.

"She was pleased, of course, that RiverClan won the kits without a fight. I believe that no matter what she thinks of you-" Mistyfoot gave him a sidelong glance, "-she'll tolerate you so long as the kits are in the Clan, and fight for Crookedstar."

"What will we name the kits?" Graystripe asked suddenly. He stared down at the little one he held in his mouth. He was a stormy grey, and larger than his sister. He glanced at the kit Mistyfoot held. She was pale silver like her mother, and was small and delicate-looking.

"Normally, that would be up to the mother." Graystripe winced at Mistyfoot's statement. The she-cat blinked an apology at him, and went on. "But since Silverstream…isn't around, I guess you'll get to do it."

"Featherkit," Graystripe said at once, staring fiercely at the little silver she-cat. "She is Silverstream's daughter. Silverstream lived her life day by day, worrying only about today, not tomorrow. She reminded me of a feather on the wind, going wherever the wind blew."

"And…" Mistyfoot asked quietly, her eyes one the small tom.

"Stormkit," Graystripe said softly. "Should his father never be there for them, he will protect Featherkit with the strength and fury of the most powerful storm."

Mistyfoot closed her eyes and nodded. "They are good names," she said at last, opening her eyes. "Names Silverstream would have been proud of."

They had reached the camp. Mistyfoot slipped inside the reeds, and Graystripe followed close behind.

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Please R&R! 


	3. ThunderClan, Goodbye

Doxeh: _Here ya go_  
Tawnyspots: _I promise I'll do your's soon.  
_Dreamcloud's Courage: _I'll give it a shot, but don't expect a masterpiece, I never was very good with birthing stuff. -winks-_

_Hmm, Always wanted to do this scene._

* * *

Tawnypaw leapt deftly from one rock to the next. It was raining lightly, and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

_This rain will mask my scent, _she thought, her whiskers quivering in satisfaction.

She glanced over her shoulder at her home. No. ThunderClan was her old home. ShadowClan was her Clan now. No more Smallear taunting her about her father, no more getting into quarrels with Mousefur or any other warrior. She sighed. Her only regret was that Bramblepaw remained behind. She knew he would never leave. He was Firestar's apprentice, and was determined to be the best ThunderClan warrior.

She was racing through the forest now. She could smell Ravenpaw's scent around here, mixed with Firestar's and Graystripe's. She had never met the black loner, but he smelled of plump mice and, very faintly, Twolegplace. He had to be the one.

To her relief, the scent grew fainter as she continued on. They must have been traveling in the opposite direction. Now she didn't have to worry about being questioned by her Clan leader and his best friend.

A mouse scuttled into her path, but she ignored it, her eyes focused only on the path ahead of her. The night sky was clouded as the rain fell, obscuring her view of StarClan. Tawnypaw wondered if they would approve of her joining of ShadowClan. Probably not.

She sniffed at the air and recoiled when the sharp tang of the Thunderpath flooded her nose and mouth. The telltale roar of the monsters became louder and louder, until she burst out of the undergrowth, almost directly onto the great, stinking path itself.

She flinched and dug her claws into the ground as a monster flashed by, ruffling her tortoishell fur. She was showered with a wave of stinging grit, her eyes narrowed against the dust the monster's huge black paws threw into the air.

Giving her head a shake, she glanced both ways carefully. The path was silent, except for the hum of a distant monster approaching. It would be safe to cross now.

Taking a deep breath, Tawnypaw threw herself out of the forest and into the open. The hard gray stone tore her delicate pads almost immediately as she raced towards ShadowClan territory. Her heart was pounding wildly as the distant hum grew louder. Right when she thought she was surely going to be flattened by one of the ruthless monsters, her paws touched home on damp, marshy ground. One of her legs caught in a thick bramble, and she tripped.

The land spun before her eyes as she rolled over and over across the muddy earth. She came to sudden, jarring stop when she was flung up against a tree stump, knocking the breath out of her. She straitened up and relaxed, glad it was over.

"Mrrrow! Intruder!"

Several birds took flight in alarm. Tawnypaw sprang to her paws, only to be smashed down into the ground, being held in place by two paws, sharp claws digging into her back. She tried to identify her attacker, breathing in sharply. She choked when the foreign scent of ShadowClan washed into her mouth and throat.

She rolled onto her back swiftly, catching her adversary off guard. She lashed out into the gloom, and felt a strong feeling of satisfaction when her claws ripped through more than just fur. Tawnypaw crouched down and faced the ShadowClan cat, baring her teeth. She gave another delicate sniff. The ShadowClan smell didn't drown her like it had done before. In fact, it seemed almost comforting now. But the only thing she could identify about her opponent was that it was a she-cat. Then, the she-cat moved slightly, and Tawnypaw saw a flash of a dark ginger pelt. Russetfur.

The ShadowClan she-cat stalked slowly around Tawnypaw, who glared at her challengingly, daring her to underestimate her again. Then, to her surprise, Russetfur sat down, though the fur on her shoulder still bristled.

"You're Tigerstar's kit, aren't you?" she said, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Tawnypaw," the apprentice replied. "And, yes, I am Tigerstar's kit. One of them, anyways."

"One of them? Where is the other?" Russetfur had gotten to her paws again, and had resumed stalking slowly around Tawnypaw. The young she-cat felt the fur on her pelt prickle nervously. She knew Russetfur was a lot stronger than she was, and could destroy her with a single, well-aimed flick of her paw. She would have to watch her words with this she-cat, that was for sure.

"He…doesn't know I have left the Clan," Tawnypaw muttered.

"So, have you come to join your father?" Russetfur said coolly, her pale yellow eyes boring into Tawnypaw's green ones.

Tawnypaw was rather taken aback that Russetfur had asked her in such an outright fashion. "Yes," she admitted, lifting her chin up and giving Russetfur a bold stare.

The she-cat's tail lashed back and forth. "How do I know you're just not a ThunderClan spy?" she spat coldly.

"Firestar himself is a spy for his Clan, Russetfur," a deep voice sounded from the bushes behind Tawnypaw. She gasped when Tigerstar emerged from them, followed closely by Darkstripe, who just stared at her in shock.

Russetfur pressed herself into the ground, flattening her ears. Tigerstar ignored her, and his gaze flicked to Tawnypaw, who just stopped herself from flinching.

To her great surprise, the ShadowClan leader's eyes were warm. The big tabby tom moved close to her and gave her ear a swift lick in welcome.

"Greetings, Tawnypaw. I am overjoyed that you have finally decided to join my Clan."

"As am I," Darkstripe murmured.

Tawnypaw glared at him, her fur fluffing out. Though she no longer wished to be apart of ThunderClan, she hadn't forgotten how Darkstripe had almost taken her and her brother away, leaving his birth Clan for death. Just because she preferred ShadowClan didn't mean she wanted ThunderClan to be annihilated.

"Silence, Darkstripe," Tigerstar spat.

Russetfur pulled herself up into a sitting position. "Tigerstar, what did you mean? Had Firestar himself been spying on TigerClan?"

"Indeed. He has in fact just stolen two apprentices and a warrior from us." Tigerstar replied. Tawnypaw missed the significant glance that flashed between the two cats. All she could think of was that Firestar had stolen cats from another Clan!

"Did he really?" she asked softly.

"Oh, yes," Tigerstar rumbled. "That is why I am so happy that you have come to me. I don't want you following a cat who breaks the warrior code."

_You broke it, _Tawnypaw almost hissed. But she held herself back in time, remembering Russetfur had no idea whatsoever about her leader's treacherous past. Should she reveal the truth, the effects could be disastrous.

"I will be happy to serve Shad…TigerClan," Tawnypaw meowed, bowing her head to her father.

"But where is Bramblepaw?" The dark warrior hissed softly.

"He did not know I left." Tawnypaw replied quietly.

Tigerstar licked her shoulder. "Tawnypaw, you shall be my apprentice now. When I rule the forest, you are to be treated with the greatest respect. As will Bramblepaw, when he sees sense and realizes who holds true power in this forest."

* * *

Tiger doesn't really make much of an appeance, now, does he? Probably because I...am...**_terrible_** at keeping seriously evil cats in character. But I always wondered how she was accepted into ShadowClan... R&R (Read & Request) lol 


	4. As Greenleaf Ends

Darkstorm Mistystar's Legacy-Thank you! Here's your death scene  
hyzenthlayfox-thanks, I'll work on those, too  
LoveNature- sure!  
Doxeh- Thanks, and you're welcome

I couldn't resist writing a death scene...

* * *

Warm sunlight filtered through the branches that hung over the ThunderClan camp. Greenleaf was coming to an end, and every cat would miss its plentiful prey and warm weather. 

But there was one cat that would never live to see this season of warmth again.

* * *

Dark storm clouds swirled in the once-blue sky, a mass of gray, black, and purple. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, as a flash of lightning stretched across the sky, as if it were an enemy claw searching for a target of fur and flesh. 

Spottedleaf crouched down in front of her den, a tiny mouse lying at her paws. She bent her head, took a delicate bite, and raised it again. Her eyes of one hundred shades of amber swept around the clearing as she swiped her pink tongue around her muzzle. This was her home.

Yellowfang was in her place by the fallen tree. She was grooming her chest fur, her eyes half closed as she bit down on a flea that was latched onto her skin. The grey she-cat lifted her head and gave the stormy sky a glare, as if daring the clouds to break. Spottedleaf felt her whiskers twitch at the old cat's defiance of nature.

The pretty medicine cat angled her ears towards the nursery. She could feel the tiny squeals and mewls of the little kits, begging their mothers for milk or to play. The queens silenced them with purrs and gentle licks. Spottedleaf felt a strange feeling of sadness, knowing that she could never experience a mother's love for her kits.

Frostfur, Brindleface, Goldenflower, and Speckletail all filed slowly out of the nursery. Speckletail leaned out and gave the brambles a hard tug, covering the entrance. She then followed her fellow queens towards the fresh-kill pile. Spottedleaf leaned out and finished the last of her mouse before giving a tremendous yawn. She stretched out her forepaws and arched her back. When she was finished, she carefully buried the bones of her prey, and walked over, tail waving, to greet the four she-cats.

But something caught her eye.

Behind the nursery, a big brown tom was clawing at the nursery wall. Spottedleaf's heart quivered when he tore through it at last and began to scoop out the contents of the thick bramble den. The kits.

Rage pulsed through the she-cat's body as she threw herself towards the intruding tom. How dare he! Her fur was bristling to twice its size, and if any cat had seen her that night, they would have mistaken her for another cat. She was no longer sweet Spottedleaf, but a fierce warrior who was ready to kill this tom who was so willing to steal her Clan's kits.

Her outstretched claws dug deep into the matted fur, and the intruder let out a muted hiss of fury. He had managed to retrieve four kits. But he would not get any more than that. Not if Spottedleaf could help it.

The tom swung his head around, yellow eyes glaring into her amber ones. With a jolt of anger, Spottedleaf realized that she recognized the trespasser's battle-scarred face. It was Clawface, one of Brokenstar's warriors!

But the kit-stealer made no move to attack her. Instead, he merely rasped a name.

"Bogpelt!"

Spottedleaf felt powerful jaws close in around the back of her neck. Pain lanced up her spine as blood trickled from the wound. But Clawface's friend was not done yet.

With a pang of dismay, Spottedleaf felt herself being dragged back, off of Clawface, who sprang to his paws, glaring at her with his ugly yellow eyes.

"Nice try, my dear," he spat at her. "But next time, your little ThunderClan leader should send warriors to retrieve stolen kits, not some petite little medicine cat. Kill her," he added to Bogpelt. With a wave of his tail in mock farewell, he scooped up two of the kits into his mouth and sprang away.

Fear made Spottedleaf quiver. She knew she was going to die. She just wished that someone could have been here to rescue the kits she had failed miserably to save.

The fangs dug deeper into her flesh, and Spottedleaf felt her neck break. She hit the ground with a muted thud, listening to her killer's paws pound the ground before they melted in with the sounds of the forest. She could not hear or scent the other two kits Clawface had stolen, which meant Bogpelt must have taken them.

_"My kits! Someone has taken my kits!"_

So they were _Frostfur's_ kits that Clawface had taken…

_Tigerclaw crept through the torn hole in the nursery wall and stopped, staring at me in shock._ He thinks I am dead_, Spottedleaf thought as the deputy threw back his head and let out a loud yowl._

_"Yellowfang is gone!"_

_"Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and taken my kits!"_

No!

* * *

R&R -sniff- Just so you know, I made a list of your requests, so I won't forget you guys! The italicized (sp?) words are what's acutally going on. The regular print is Spottedleaf's thoughts. 


	5. The Reluctance to Return

**This is the what Whitethroat had been doing (after he refused to go back to ShadowClan with Littlecloud).**

**Book IV-Rising Storm**

* * *

Whitethroat watched Littlecloud pad confidently through the tunnel that led under the Thunderpath, proudly bearing the herbs that had saved both toms' lives. The herbs that could save their Clan.

As the black and white ShadowClan warrior reached out a paw to follow his friend, the sickness' foul stench crashed into his mouth. He gagged involuntarily, and backed out of the secret tunnel, back arched and eyes stretched wide in fear.

Littlecloud glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glistening with concern for his Clanmate.

"You alright?" He asked, his voice muffled due to the healing herbs in his mouth.

"Yes, Littlecloud," Whitethroat lied. At Littlecloud's disbelieving expression, he sighed and sat down, careful to keep his distance from the tunnel that reeked with the disgusting smell of the sickness. "I guess I'm just afraid of going back."

"Why?" Littlecloud's head tipped questioningly to the side, his eyes clouded in confusion.

"What if we catch the sickness again?" Littlecloud let out a fearful mew as his friend's head whipped around from side to side in panic, his fur fluffing out to twice its size, as if he were facing an invisible enemy. "Don't you scent it? Death waits for us if we return. I will not go back to die!" Whitecloud's voice rose to a shrill shriek, and several sparrows in a nearby tree took flight in alarm.

"Whitethroat, calm down, you won't-"

"You don't know anything!" Whitethroat cried, his eyes glistening with terror. "I won't go back to ShadowClan! I can't!"

The tom turned tail and fled.

"Whitethroat, no!" Littlecloud's anguished cry followed him, but Whitethroat paid no heed to his friend's plea.

_I won't go back…I _will_ survive! _

His black and white paws pounded frantically into the ground as he tore blindly through ThunderClan territory. Perhaps it was StarClan that led him to the Twolegplace.

Or maybe it was a darker force.

* * *

Whitethroat, quite by accident, ran straight into another cat, a big brown tabby, with a startled yowl.

The tabby whipped around immediately and pinned the smaller tom down with barely any effort at all. Whitethroat gasped as long claws dug into his chest. He tried to fight back, but the sickness had taken an edge of his fighting skills, and the tabby barely flinched as he rained heavy blows upon him. Instead, he cuffed him with a huge, heavy paw and stepped back. Whitethroat scrabbled to his paws immediately and glared. But then, as he realized his situation, he let out a gasp of surprise.

He was surrounded by dozens of rogues, all staring at him in a mixture of alarm, suspicion, and hatred.

_I _will_ survive!_

The tabby tom Whitethroat had ran into stood at the center of the group, his amber eyes scorching deep into the tom's fur, until Whitethroat thought he would melt away under his gaze. He gave a start as the huge tom stepped forward, powerful muscles rippling under the sleek brown pelt. He instinctively crouched down in a defensive position and bared his fangs. The tom and the other rogues merely laughed at him.

The tabby stepped forward and thrust his muzzle into Whitethroat's face and inhaled deeply.

"ShadowClan," he announced to the others. The rogues drew back, hissing and spitting. Their leader, who was obviously the brown tabby tom, had spoken to them about the sickness that was ravaging the ShadowClan camp. But they were the least of Whitethroat's worries. Where had he heard this tom's voice before? And that tabby pelt seemed oddly familiar…

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him.

"T-Tigerclaw!" Whitethroat gasped.

"Me," the ex-deputy of ThunderClan purred softly, but his eyes turned cold. "What brings you onto ThunderClan territory, and so close to Twolegplace?"

"Littlecloud and I found a cure for the sickness," Whitethroat lied. In truth, that ThunderClan medicine cat, Cinder-something, had cured them. But he thought he might as well try and impress these rogues. Maybe if he seemed intelligent and strong enough, they would spare his life.

"And?" Tigerclaw prompted.

"He wanted to take it back to ShadowClan. But he left without telling me. And I thought that if not even Littlecloud, who battled the sickness alongside of me, didn't want me, none of ShadowClan would." He bowed his head and hunched his shoulders in mock shame and misery.

So easily these lies tumbled from his mouth!

After exchanging a few glances with his followers, Tigerclaw's whiskers twitched as his head swiveled back around to stare Whitethroat in the eyes. He swiped his tongue once around his mouth before leaning forward with glittering eyes.

"You wouldn't care to join us, would you?"

Two ThunderClan warriors and an apprentice stalked carefully in the part of ThunderClan territory that lay near the Thunderpath. They were stalking prey, and paid no attention to the ambush of rogues that lay on either side of them.

Whitethroat crouched two cats away from Tigerclaw, who stared hungrily at the cats. He watched him drop down into a crouch, straiten back up, and flex his claws again and again. Finally, after the apprentice had caught a mouse and the warriors were busy congratulating him on his catch, he lashed his tail and sprang, followed by Whitethroat and the others.

What happened next happened so fast that Whitethroat didn't know what had occurred until it was too late. He heard and smelled the blood that splattered the ground, and also heard the sound of two cats running away.

The rogues, with their task being completed, slipped away, back into the trees to hide, until only Tigerclaw and Whitethroat were left, both staring at the limp body of one of the ThunderClan warriors. One stared in triumph. The other stared in disbelief and horror.

Whitethroat leaned down and gave the body a sniff. He did not notice Tigerclaw creep up behind him until sharp claws dug into his sides, holding him down. Tigerclaw pressed his mouth against the tom's ear fur and let out a purr of cold, wicked amusement.

"I'll just let you take the blame for this death, little liar." The tabby tom's paw connected with the side of Whitethroat's head. Hard.

Lights out.

* * *

Whitethroat lifted his head, the ground swimming before his eyes. Weak sunlight filtered through the branches as he gave his head a light shake. With a groan, the tom staggered to his paws and then stopped dead.

His chest was splattered with blood. Before him lay the body of the ThunderClan warrior Tigerclaw and his rogues had slain. From the blood that still ran from the cat's grievous wounds, Whitethroat could tell that he had not been out of action for long.

Anger and terror boiled in Whitethroat's blood. Tigerclaw had betrayed him! The tom had killed this warrior and left Whitethroat to take the blame. More fear gripped him as he remembered Tigerclaw's last words to him.

_"…little liar…"_

_He knows, _the black and white tom realized. _But how would he know? _

A rustle in the bushes made him look up in alarm. A rust-colored tom stepped out from them, followed by the apprentice and warrior Whitethroat had attacked earlier. Whitethroat recognized the tom right away; it was Fireheart, the ThunderClan deputy who had discovered him on his territory but, after hearing the pleas from the crippled medicine cat, had let him stay.

For a heartbeat, the tom just stared in disbelief and bewilderment. But, slowly, rage and frustration burned in his green eyes as he launched himself forward.

Whitethroat was too shocked and shaken himself to even bother to fight back as Fireheart pinned him down. The rusty tom blinked at him in puzzlement, and his grip slackened. Seizing his chance, Whitethroat thrust the deputy off of him and sprang away. After a few seconds of running, he heard paws pounding after him. Fireheart was giving chase.

Whitethroat burst out of the underbrush and warily approached the Thunderpath. His first thought was of the tunnel. But it was too far away, and besides, he couldn't let another ShadowClan weakness be revealed; if he used the tunnel to escape, Fireheart would follow, and he would discover the tunnel. He might even use the opportunity to attack the already weakened ShadowClan.

Forgetting to be cautious, Whitethroat cast one terrified glance over his shoulder and flung himself onto the path. He was halfway across it when a shadow fell over him, and a roaring sound crashed into his ears. He glanced up and-

* * *

**Ha, gave ya a cliffy. We all know what happens after he gets hit by the monster.**


	6. Thanks Barley

Oh my gosh, I feel guilty now because it took forever to put this thing up! We had to re-write the Declaration of Independence in modern-day terms...-- and had to do at least 5 essays in English...and our Math teacher loves to see us suffer under mounds of nasty algebraic word-probablems -shudders-

Dreamstar-heh heh heh, I like the word splatter better, but that was pretty good ;) Sick sense of humour indeed...  
Sketchy- Go right ahead. I am so happy I have inspired someone -hugs self-  
Dancer- Hmmm...another death scene...I'll have to think about that... :)  
Tawnyspots- No problem:)  
Nameless Nightmare-Tah dah!

* * *

Ravenpaw shook uncontrollably, watching the two specks in the rain that were Graypaw and Firepaw get smaller and smaller as his friends left him here in the rain. His shivering had nothing to do with the coldness of the air. Firepaw's words to him rang in his mind:

_Ravenpaw, Tigerclaw's gonna kill you. We have to get you out!_

Ravenpaw paused, and then let out a loud, wailing yowl, voicing all of his fear and anguish. He yowled again, letting the whole world know of his sadness of the loving Clan he had left behind.

He turned and began to race to Barley's farm. Through bush and through bracken he traveled, never stopping in his frantic quest. The rain was seizing up his muscles, making him stiff, but he still kept running. Then, a loud noise stopped him in his tracks. At first, he couldn't place it, and then, he suddenly understood what it was.

A huge dog burst through the undergrowth, heading strait for him. With a yowl of fear, Ravenpaw jumped back and clawed his way up a tree. The dog reared, placing his front paws on the tree. Ravenpaw suddenly felt a surge of unknown bravery course through his tired limbs, giving him strength. He leaned down and gashed the dog's nose wide open. With a squeal, the dog backed down and thundered away through the forest, letting the whole world know of his hurt nose and pride.

With a howl of triumph, Ravenpaw leaped down and continued his dash. Suddenly, Ravenpaw's paws weren't on smooth grass anymore, but on the hard stone of the Thunderpath!

Ravenpaw froze as the eyes of a huge monster came into view. He tried to move, but he was petrified with shock. Without thinking, he put his head underneath his paws.

_This is it,_ he thought in dismay as the roar of the monster grew louder, _Firepaw saved me for nothing._

Ravenpaw waited for death to come to him, but it didn't. Instead, a huge shadow passed over him, accompanied by a loud bellow. He raised his head a faction of an inch, and realized that the monster hadn't hit him! It had passed over him instead. He sprang to his paws and hurtled across the rest of the Thunderpath and into the forest beyond.

Just as Ravenpaw was thinking that he must rest or die, Barley's farm came into view.

"Thank StarClan!" he cried, and was at the door in heartbeats. Thinking it would be impolite to just walk in, he raised a paw and scratched at the door, announcing his presence with a loud caterwaul.

There was a rustle in the bushes. Ravenpaw turned and unsheathed his claws, ready to fight, but it was only Barley, the friendly cat who so generously opened his home to all weary travelers.

"Ravenpaw, isn't it?" Barley asked before Ravenpaw could speak. Ravenpaw nodded.

"Well then, come in. Any ThunderClanner is a friend of mine indeed," Barley purred, blinking in a friendly way at Ravenpaw.

"I can tell you have a story to share, and I would like to hear it."

Ravenpaw's whiskers twitched.

"Thanks, Barley," he purred.

* * *

**R&R, my peeps!** (**Uhg, I DESPISE those things. So marshmallowy :P** )


	7. From a Grey Tom's Point of View

**Nameless Nightmare- Awww, thanks!  
Skyfeather-I'll keep those in mind  
Brightfang- Thank you! And yes, I do NP. Great idea! Here's your scene!**

**Oh my gosh, this is, like, the longest chapter I have ever written for a Warriors fanfic. 3534 words!**

* * *

"That Brambleclaw is a lazy lump!" 

Ashfur lifted his head in alarm. He had been about to take a pigeon from the fresh-kill pile, having contributed two wood mice and a crow. He hadn't eaten anything since sunhigh the previous day, and was starving. He watched Mousefur storm around the camp, yowling something about the tabby tom sleeping past sunrise.

The grey tom shrugged and retrieved his pigeon, trekking over to a shady corner in the camp to munch on it, wondering about Brambleclaw's suddenly sleepiness. As he ate, his eyes followed Brightheart as she poked her head in the den and then pulled it back out again, shaking her head at Mousefur, who lashed her tail in annoyance.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and he lifted his head to see Dustpelt walking towards him, an annoyed yet worried expression on his face. Ashfur straitened up and met the older tom's eyes. Something about his obvious anxiety made the fur on the young warrior's spine rise.

"Have you seen Squirrelpaw?" the dark brown tabby asked, his voice soft as to not alert any other cat to her absence.

"No, sorry. Why?" Ashfur responded, his tail twitching nervously. Squirrelpaw, gone? Where? He had always harbored a soft spot for the fiery young apprentice…He was so caught up in wondering where she possibly could have gone that he missed Dustpelt's answer.

"Hello?" The tabby's annoyed mew made Ashfur jump. "If you would _listen_, then you would have heard me say that the apprentices told me she didn't sleep in the den last night."

"I hope she's okay," Ashfur muttered, instinctively flexing his claws.

"Oh, she's probably fine," Dustpelt said confidently. "But she won't be once I've gotten my paws on her!" he spun around and stalked off.

Ashfur watched the tabby leave, and then his eyes followed Mousefur as she, Spiderpaw, Brightheart, and Cloudtail padded into the gorse tunnel and out of sight. Dustpelt complained under his breath and vanished into the nursery.

Ashfur could not help but feel slightly hurt at the thought of Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw _both_ missing from the camp. They were probably out alone somewhere. Together. With a sigh of regret, he took another bite of his pigeon and almost let out a wail at the unfairness of it. Brambleclaw was moons older than Squirrelpaw, and _she_ was an apprentice. But no use crying over lost prey. If she's gone, she's gone.

* * *

Ashfur lay with his head on his paws, his eyes bright with worry. Many dawns had come and gone, and still no sign of Squirrelpaw. It was the night of the half-moon, and Cinderpelt and Leafpaw were away at Highstones. The moon hung in the sky, surrounded by thousands of twinkling stars.

He blinked when he saw Firestar emerge from his den, looking weary and defeated. His leader stopped in the centre of the clearing and lifted his head to the heavens of Silverpelt. Ashfur heard him murmur something that sounded like a prayer as the night sky turned to a pale grey. As a few cats began to emerge from their dens, he caught the last few words:

"…light her path and keep her safe, Spottedleaf."

Spottedleaf? Ashfur frowned. She was the legendary ThunderClan medicine cat who had been killed as a distraction so a ShadowClan warrior could steal ThunderClan kits. Why would Firestar be talking to her, of all cats? And why in such a tone of longing? Ashfur allowed his whiskers to twitch in amusement as he imagined what Sandstorm would say if she found out Firestar talked about other cats with a tone he usually reserved for her.

* * *

Ashfur was really worried now. The moon was full, and he had just returned from the Gathering. The other warriors were lying around him, their eyes heavy with sleep. He felt a sense of comfort as he felt their warm bodies pressed against his, but this comfort was lost as he remembered Squirrelpaw, who, for all he knew, could be shivering all alone in a desolate place far from home.

When the young tom finally closed his eyes, his last thoughts were of the small ginger apprentice.

_Squirrelpaw, where are you?_

* * *

_Thousands of tail-lengths from home, Squirrelpaw opened her eyes and jerked her head upwards. She had been dreaming about a grey cat, writhing worriedly in his sleep._

_A huge shape lying in front of her nearly caused her to let out a screech of alarm. But she remembered just in time: it was only Midnight. The huge badger's stomach rose and fell as she snored softly. She glanced around, relaxing as she saw her friends around her._

_As Squirrelpaw laid her head down, she glanced and Brambleclaw, sleeping peacefully beside her. The young apprentice curled her tail around her body as she curled up into a neat ball. But even as her body relaxed, she kept her eyes fixed on her Clanmate._

'Why should I be having a dream about Ashfur?' _She wondered, her eyes narrowing in confusion. _'I'm in love with Brambleclaw.'

_And with that, Squirrelpaw fell asleep again, her dreams undisturbed. She would not remember her dream when she awoke._

_

* * *

_

_As the ginger she-cat closed her eyes, the eyes of the cat from her dream snapped open in alarm. A pang of loss and anguish was coursing through him, making his body tremble. He raised himself to his paws and padded out of the den to a secluded part of camp. In the dim moonlight, if one had looked close enough, they would have seen his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed grief, his eyes glazed with tears a cat could not cry…_

* * *

Ever since that terrible night, the night Ashfur had somehow realized Squirrelpaw did not love him, he had kept his feelings for the she-cat in check. He would often reprimand himself for daydreaming about the day she would return.

Things changed between him and the rest of the Clan. As the Clan slowly began to realize the forest was being destroyed, they stayed close together for protection. Ashfur was just the opposite. He found himself hunting and patrolling alone, desperately trying to keep his mind off of Squirrelpaw. Besides, he had become close friends with her and what had it gotten him? A broken heart. He didn't need the Clan to protect him.

Then came the worst time he had ever faced in the forest. Later, after the Clans had traveled to the lake, it would be known as the Starving Time. Cats were dying. Cats were starving. Their coats, once sleek and glossy, had become matted and thin, hanging off bones that had once been hidden by sturdy muscles. Their eyes, once robust and full of life, were now dull and clouded. To live meant to starve. To starve meant to die. To die meant to be free from this terrible fate.

Ashfur had no time to think about Squirrelpaw anymore. He practically lived in the forest, forcing himself to continue his endless task, his impossible feat of trying to find enough food to feed at least the elders and the queens. There were times when he himself went days without so much as a scrap in his already too-thin stomach. His life became meaningless. His sole purpose was to hunt. Find. Stalk. Leap. Trap. Kill. Those words he would constantly repeat to himself.

There were times when he became so disoriented from lack of food that he forgot his own name, where he was, and why he was there.

* * *

The young grey tabby now stalked a bright red cardinal. It perched on a low tree branch, and had its back turned to the hunter. Ashfur flexed his claws, rocked his haunches back and forth, and crept forward swiftly and lightly. The bird paid him no mind. He gathered up, ready to spring, but before he could, his belly gave a loud rumble. The bright red bird let out an alarmed shriek and burst into flight. Ashfur sprang up into the air, but came short by at least three tail-lengths. He sighed.

Find. Stalk. Leap. _Failure._

* * *

Ashfur walked wearily back to camp, his head bowed, a tiny mouse clasped firmly in his jaws. The sun was beginning to set, and he needed to get back before the Gathering started. But at this rate, he was sure he would be left behind.

A rustle in the bushes ahead caused his neck fur to rise slightly, but he did not jump to his paws, spitting and growling challenges like he would have a few moons ago. He just did not have the strength. Let whoever this was kill him. What did he have to live for?

An emaciated shape crept out from under the bush, followed by another, and another. Ashfur had to squint to recognize Firestar, Graystripe, and Sandstorm. They were followed by the meager remnants of what would have once been a mighty representation at any Gathering. Their eyes were all fixed on the mouse Ashfur held in his jaws.

The grey tom caught Firestar's eye, who nodded. He limped over to Mousefur, who seemed to be the weakest of the bunch, being the oldest warrior, and started to pass the mouse to her. She shook her head.

"Take some for yourself, first, Ashfur," she rasped. "You can just pass me up. I'm so sick; no food will help me now."

"Never," Ashfur snarled, his fur bristling. "Everyone will get a share!" He leaned down a ripped a strip of flesh off of the mouse that was no wider than his claw. He pushed the mouse over to Mousefur, who did the same, as he slowly chewed it, savoring its taste. He realized this could be his last scrap of food for a while, so he had better make it good.

By the time the mouse had been passed around once, there were nothing left but picked-clean bones that seemed to shine mockingly in the setting sun. Ashfur was so hungry, he was tempted to eat the _bones_, but he thought better of it.

The tom scanned the group and blinked in surprise. Ferncloud had Hollykit and Birchkit panting at her paws. The elders, even Longtail, were crouched down, their eyes half closed. In fact, every warrior and apprentice was there.

"We decided to move the Clan to the Sunningrocks," Firestar meowed, his voice barely above a whisper. He had followed Ashfur's gaze. "We were too close to the twolegs and their monsters."

Ashfur said nothing, only nodding. At any other time, he would have confronted Firestar for leaving him out of the discussion of where the Clan would move, but now was not the time for him to pick a fight with his leader. Besides, where else did they have to run to?

"Are they all coming to the Gathering?" he asked quietly.

"No. Mousefur will lead the elders, apprentices, and queens to Sunningrocks." Firestar's voice was flat and emotionless as he turned and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Ashfur cried out. Firestar stopped and turned his head. Ashfur jerked his head at the bones. "Aren't we going to bury these?" he asked.

"We've already wasted enough time!" Dustpelt spat, shouldering his way forward. "We have to leave now if we even want to make it to Fourtrees by moonhigh!" he stared pointedly at Firestar, who sighed.

Ashfur glared at Dustpelt. "Just because we're all half dead doesn't mean we can't show respect for the creatures that keep as alive!" He remembered about Larchkit too late. Dustpelt looked speechless, his eyes wide. "Dustpelt, I-"

"FINE!" the tabby bellowed, his eyes burning. "Do as you like. Next thing we know, you'll be telling us you believe in StarClan!" There were muted gasps from the Clan as Dustpelt spat the last word and spun around, stalking into the undergrowth. Firestar glanced back at Ashfur before following. The rest of the Clan also padded after their leader, except Ashfur, who watched them leave.

He turned to the mouse bones and carefully buried them in the earth.

'_I do believe in you, StarClan,' _he thought._ 'I know you still watch over us.'_

* * *

Ashfur padded into his new camp, his eyes filled with disbelief at what he had just seen. His heart was pounding fit to burst; fear was coursing through his veins.

_The twoleg raised the shiny forepaw. It bit deep into the great oak's bark. Sap spewed out of the tree, like blood flying from a mortal wound…_

The twolegs had destroyed Fourtrees.

* * *

Days melted into nights. Dawn became the bringer of death. Indeed, it seemed that with every sunrise, another death occurred somewhere within the forest.

Ashfur wandered aimlessly around the camp, his eyes flicking from one spot to another without really seeing anything. Every rib showed, his eyes were sunken into his skull, and his shoulders jutted out of his pelt. He was basically skin and fur stretched over a skeleton.

He passed Ferncloud, his sister, who was stretched out on her side. Her kits slept beside her, looking no better than their mother. Ashfur felt a pang of sadness in his heart. These kits seemed so much different from the ones he remembered, the ones who had always played with one another. Now, they pressed close to Ferncloud, trying to gather up whatever warmth they could.

The gray tom's eyes found Dustpelt on the other side of Sunningrocks. The tabby was hunched over, his eyes half closed. The bitter winds ruffled his mangy pelt. He lifted his head and caught Ashfur's gaze. They stared into each other's eyes for the longest time. Finally, Ashfur dipped his head to his former mentor, who nodded back.

The warrior slowly made his way off of the rocks and down to the river bank, where he crouched down to lap up water. The cool liquid soothed his parched throat, and he drank as much as he could until his belly was full with it. It was about the only thing it could be full on these days.

"What, pray tell, is a ThunderClan warrior doing in RiverClan territory?" A voice sneered.

Ashfur lifted his head, surprise and anger making his fur stand on end. A dark tabby shape loomed over him.

"Brambleclaw?" he asked quietly, his heart giving a disbelieving tremor.

"What are you mewing about? Why would you confuse me with that…deserter!" the tabby spat the last word.

Ashfur looked closer. The tabby looked so much like his Clan mate…but as he leaned forward, he saw that this tom had ice blue eyes, not Brambleclaw's pale amber.

"Hawkfrost!" he gasped, tail-tip twitching.

"Me," the tabby confirmed calmly. Ashfur blinked, angry with himself. How could he confuse his friend with another cat? He shook his head. Perhaps it was just the sun playing on the water, but he could have sworn Brambleclaw had the same broad shoulders and thick pelt.

"Now," the tabby swept on, his voice becoming low and dangerous, "why on you on my territory?"

"You're territory?!" Ashfur growled, his hackles rising. "This is the ThunderClan side of the river!"

"True. But ThunderClanners cannot hunt this river."

"I know that. What do think I am, exactly?"

"Nor are they allowed to drink from it."

"What?" Ashfur exploded, spring to his paws. "That's the most mouse-brained thing I've ever of heard of!"

"Believe what you want, intruder." Hawkfrost's voice was airy with confidence as he took stepped forward, unsheathing long, sharp claws.

_Great StarClan! _Ashfur thought._ I sure don't want to tangle with this warrior. He could rip me into kit bedding! _But he would not back down. The tom bared his fangs and took a pace towards his persecutor, tail lashing, eyes burning. Hawkfrost's eyes widened for a second, as if he had not been expecting Ashfur to meet his challenge. But the next moment, his uncertainty vanished, replaced with superior arrogance.

"Fine then," he spat. To Ashfur's great surprise, he whirled around and slipped into the water, vanishing under the surface. For a heartbeat, only ripples revealed the tom's position, but then, these too disappeared, leaving the water smooth as glass.

Ashfur shifted uncomfortably, his eyes scanning the water. He knew an attack could not come from behind, but the river curved slightly around him like a half-moon, leaving him susceptible to attacks from the sides and front. He strained his ears, listening for the faintest gurgle of water, the softest sound of a heartbeat…

Hawkfrost exploded out of the water to his left. Ashfur jerked his head back in time, and the tabby's teeth snapped shut on empty air close to his ear.

With amazing agility, Hawkfrost twisted in the air to land on his paws. Ashfur had to grudgingly admit that the tom he was dealing with was no fool. He could fight and use his surroundings to his advantages, as he had just proved.

"That's a neat trick," Ashfur growled. "Too bad it didn't work."

"Shame," Hawkfrost sneered back. "If it had, there'd be one less trespasser in the forest."

Ashfur sprang forward, unsheathing his claws, his eyes burning with anger. He felt dim satisfaction when his claws scraped through skin. Hawkfrost screeched as his blood splattered the ground and tainted the river.

The dark tabby lurched forward and brought his fangs crushing down on Ashfur's neck, near his shoulder. Pain lanced down the grey tom's spine as he felt blood seep from the bite. With a yowl, he twisted around, trying to yank free from Hawkfrost's merciless jaws.

A battle cry went up from Sunningrocks, and Ashfur twisted his head around with a cry of relief.

Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Mousefur were sprinting towards the river's edge, their eyes gleaming with fury. Hawkfrost stood his ground for a heartbeat, lashing his tail, but then his grip on Ashfur lessened, and the grey tom fell to the ground panting. When he glanced up, Hawkfrost had thrown himself into the river with a splash, and was swimming strongly back to the other side.

* * *

Ashfur moved about the camp stiffly. Clouds coated the sky, forecasting rain. He cringed a little and twisted his neck to give his permanent injury a lick. A knotted scar ran from the back of his neck to his shoulder, often limiting his movements. Though Cinderpelt has said the pain would fade in a few days, he would always bear the scar. A grim reminder of Hawkfrost. Ashfur bristled at the thought of his name.

When he thought of Cinderpelt, he decided to go to her for some healing herbs. Gritting his teeth, he strode over to where she kept her limited supply of medicines, and realized she was not there.

"She went back," a deep meow said softly. Ashfur turned and saw Firestar standing a few tail-lengths behind him, his shoulders jutting out of his fur.

"Back?" Ashfur echoed.

"Not for good," the tom said quickly. "She went to retrieve the last of her herbs from the old camp this morning."

"Oh."

For a while, the leader and his warrior sat in silence. Then, Firestar rose to his paws, twitching his tail in farewell.

"I must go hunt," he muttered quietly, with a meaningful glance and the fresh-kill pile that consisted of two scrawny mice. He turned his back on Ashfur and walked away wearily into the forest, the weak sun bouncing off his matted pelt.

Ashfur sighed, but then, he lifted his head in surprise, sniffing the air curiously. That scent…it was so familiar.

He whipped around and bounded to a rock that rose above the rest. A high wind blew his fur dramatically to one side as he scanned the ground below him and gasped. Approaching Sunningrocks was a band of three cats, a tabby tom in the leader, a ginger she-cat following, and a dark grey tom taking up the rear.

He tensed, ready to bound down to meet them, but they had already begun to pass other members of the Clan, who drew back, their eyes burning with anger and mistrust. A few walked stiffly forward, their lips curled in disgust.

Ashfur slid down the rocks, his heart pounding. He noted that Squirrelpaw seemed to be pressing close to Brambleclaw, her eyes gleaming with fear. Fear of her own Clanmates. Ashfur felt jealousy surge within him, and he padded out of the shadows. Squirrelpaw turned to him, obviously depending on him to say something…to welcome them back…

"Well, welcome back."

* * *

**Gah, I know that's not what he really said to them, but I seem to have lost Dawn, so I can't use it for reference. If anyone would be so kind as to fill me in on that last line, I'd be grateful :) As for the fight between Ash and Hawky, I figured that for Squirrelpaw to like him, he should probably dislike Hawkfrost for some reason or another.**

**R&R!**


	8. Bloodsplattered Snow

A loud scream of fury split the frosty night.

A mountain lion stood in the empty den, her eyes bright with anguish and pain. The smell of blood lingered in the air, and the small red stains on the ground told the mother what had become of her two lion cubs, who had just started to live in the world.

And yet, another scent hung on the air. A scent the lion knew very well, but had never taken interest in. It was there, floating in the den, mocking her. It was not as strong as the blood-scent, but still existent. It made the lion's blood boil in rage.

_Cat-scent!_

Every hair on her body came alive, bristling and standing straight up. She lashed his tawny tail with the jet black tip. The yellow eyes, framed in black, became twin pools of fire. She threw back her head and let out another terrifying scream, letting the mountains know of her thirst for revenge.

* * *

Leaf that Floats on Wind padded into the Tribe's cave, half-carrying and half-dragging a huge furry bundle in her jaws. Though she did not know it, it was a mountain lion cub, juicy and fat from his mother's milk. Wolf who Howls at Night followed her, carrying the other cub.

Teller of Pointed stones met them in the middle of the cave, staring at the prey they had retrieved with curious eyes.

"Leaf, Wolf," he meowed quietly, nosing one of the cubs, "I do not know of this prey. What is it?"

"I cannot answer that, Stoneteller," Wolf responded gravely, setting his dead cub down on the stone floor. "It was the only food we could find after the snowstorm."

"Where did you find it?" Stoneteller asked, tipping his head to one side.

Leaf shrugged, and flicked her tail. "Beyond where we usually hunt, so I know of no landmarks." Her voice became bitter. "This season has been so cold. Nothing can survive."

"We will survive," Stoneteller growled softly, yet his voice was strong.

A loud scream filled the night, and the three cats whipped around, staring at the entrance to the cave.

"What was that?" Leaf whispered softly, almost to herself.

The noise woke the other Tribe cats, and they all crowded in the center of the cave around Stoneteller and the two Prey-hunters.

Another yowl. Closer. Filled with anger and hate. And blood-lust.

The Tribe pressed close to one another. The Cave-guards stepped forward, bravely creating a half circle between the cave entrance and their friends.

Another scream sounded right above the cave. The light from the full moon burned through the waterfall in front of the cave entrance, illuminating the terrified cats. And then, a shadow passed between the falls and the Tribe.

The devil cat of the mountains was a terror to behold. Her eyes were burning with the passion to kill, to rake her long claws through the flesh of these cats who had stolen her young. Her jaws opened wide, and her scream of hatred echoed in the cave, all but shaking the stone to pieces.

The Tribe scattered, but the Cave-guards stood their ground. The lion cat sprang into the cave, and the massacre began

* * *

Wow, it's been forever since I last updated. Read and Review!

* * *


	9. Gorsepaw's Final Stand

There were TigerClan warriors everywhere he turned.

Gorsepaw cringed as Blackfoot, the former ShadowClan deputy, raked his long claws down the apprentice's back. With a hiss of anger, Gorsepaw flipped himself onto his back and kicked out with his hind legs, knocking the breath out of the white tom.

"Get out of our camp!" he spat furiously. Blackfoot glared and bounded away, disappearing into the thick pile of fighting bodies near the camp entrance.

Scrabbling to his paws, Gorsepaw glanced around desperately. There were at least two TigerClan warriors for every WindClan cat. He saw his mother, Morningflower, take a hard blow to the head from a cat with dark tabby fur and glowing amber eyes.

Tigerstar himself.

Gorsepaw felt anger surge through his body all the way down to the tip of his tail. Forget this tom was twice his size and had the nine lives of a Clan leader. Forget he had done the impossible, taking two Clans and making them one. Tigerstar had just injured his mother, and for that, he would pay.

The WindClan apprentice raced forward, and crashed into the great tabby's side in three bounds. Tigerstar staggered and whipped around, eyes filled with hate and fury. But when he saw Gorsepaw, his tongue flicked out and swiped around his jaws in a single sweep.

"Perfect," he snarled. Before Gorsepaw had a chance to defend himself, Tigerstar was on top of him, pinning him to the ground with his huge paws planted firmly on Gorsepaw's chest. The young tom struggled to breathe as the thorn-sharp claws dug into his skin. The TigerClan leader threw back his head with a tremendous howl.

"Stop!"

The TigerClan warriors halted in their massacre and spun around to face the tom. Tigerstar motioned with his tail and a few of his warriors, all ShadowClan cats, Gorsepaw noticed, gathered around him. The apprentice could just see his mother staring with horror at him through the tangle of legs. He wondered what Tigerstar was going to do.

"WindClan!" Tigerstar thundered viciously, fixing them all up in his amber-eyed stare, "You may wonder why TigerClan has attacked your camp this day." He paused and curled his lip, revealing blood-stained fangs. "It is because of this; That kittypet fool Firestar, who you are all bent on obeying, has brought this upon you by turning away from my peaceful offer. I am certain had he stayed silent, you all would have seen what was right. But Firestar is clever, and uses StarClan's wrath to keep you all sniveling at his feet, instead of joining with me."

"However, it is not too late!" Tigerstar jerked his head around to glare directly into Tallstar's eyes. The WindClan leader stood there, panting and bleeding, staring at Tigerstar with hate etched into every line in his face.

"WindClan may still be saved without any death at all. Join me now," Tigerstar then turned his gaze onto Gorsepaw, who snarled at him in return, "or I will be forced to kill this apprentice."

An explosion of angry yowls and screeches rose up from the WindClan warriors. Morningflower was on her paws now, her eyes wide with shock and fear. Tigerstar's whiskers twitched, and Gorsepaw almost vomited. This sick leader actually found this amusing!

Tallstar stepped forward now.

"WindClan will never join TigerClan," he snarled furiously, though his eyes had fear in them.

"Not even if one of your apprentices was threatened with death?" Tigerstar retorted calmly.

Gorsepaw hissed up at Tigerstar. "I'd rather die than watch my Clan join yours."

Tigerstar sneered. "Very well. Before he dies, tell ThunderClan, and especially their foolish leader, that this is what waits for all of you, if you refuse my offer again." He lunged forward and sank his teeth into Gorsepaw's throat. The apprentice convulsed in pain.

Tigerstar's face was less than a mouse-length from his. Gorsepaw thought he saw a trace of regret in his amber eyes. "Pity," the leader murmured quietly. "You would have made a great TigerClan warrior."

"Never," Gorsepaw rasped out. The remorse vanished from Tigerstar's eyes, and they became cold once more. The leader then flicked his head to one side, breaking Gorsepaw's neck in one fluid motion.


End file.
